Their loving embrace often left a lasting scar - the love of one who has seen so much hate can confuse as much as comfort.
Those of us born to survivors know nothing of their ordeal. Whether they spoke of the horror or chose to remain silent, we, their children, will never fully grasp what they went through. They were first-hand witnesses to a fury, the likes of which the world has never seen before. We, second gens, are the product of their decision to carry on. We are a conscious effort to, not only survive, but to thrive. They had faith in our ability to make their survival worthwhile. But with that faith comes a responsibility: we are the first generation to deal with the Holocaust as an inheritance. The way we accept it will set a precedence for all generations to come.
There is only one transitional generation from eyewitness to correspondent. How we choose to commemorate, honor, and most of all triumph, in the shadow cast by the Second World War is our story to write. Future generations will forever look upon the choices we make and the directions we take. But will they marvel at our resolve or will they wonder what went wrong?
Our vision is forever marred by parent’s arms, branded with death-camp numbers. When our children gaze into our weary eyes will they see a penetrating vision or a blank stare?
